Growing UP
by xX Liza Xx
Summary: When a young Sherlock Holmes crosses paths with a blind girl named Alita Mason, a friendship is formed that will change his life forever.
1. Half Two

WHAM! The pain exploded in the young boy's side as he was knocked to the ground. He pushed himself to his hands and knees and looked at his body which was now covered in mud, a few of his dark curls hanging now where he could see them. He clenched his jaw and said nothing as more mud was kicked into his face.

"Just stay in the dirt. It's where you belong." Another boy taunted and a few more joined in a chorus of laughter.

"Need your _My_ to save you?" Another chirped up as the young boy continued to stare at the ground, ignoring them as best he could

He was pushed back down into the mud with another chorus of laughter and then the boys started to walk away

"Just loony, that one is." He heard someone mumble under their breath.

Little William Sherlock Scott Holmes pushed himself up to a sitting position and tried to wipe the mud from his face. He knew their opinions of him didn't matter. He knew none of it should bother him. So he simply sighed and tried his best to fix his clothing before heading back towards his home.

As he walked he noticed the people walking across the street sending him looks of disapproval and whispering to one another. One glanced towards the direction of his home and said something else before nodding. They both shook their heads before continuing on. Sherlock knew what they were saying. Perhaps not exactly but he could figure out enough.

He, for one, was glad he did not have to go to school with the other children. They were far less intelligent for one, but mostly they were mean. And despite what people would say in the future, he didn't like mean people. Not like those boys.

As Sherlock continued on his way, his ears picked up on a hesitant shuffling sound. He listened for the direction of the sound and quickly pinpointed it. His head turned to the alley nearby and he raised an eyebrow before taking a few steps foreword. He peeked into the alley way and caught sight of a girl, perhaps an inch or so shorter than him, with dark hair that was pulled back in a rather loose ponytail. Small sections of it were falling in her face however she didn't seem to mind as she moved around the area. She held her hands out in front of her and also seemed to be searching the ground with her feet. Sherlock had already determined she was blind. That was easy enough to tell. What he hadn't been able to do is locate was the obvious thing she was missing, her walking stick.

He did another scan of the alley and noticed it on the edge of a window that would be above her head. It had to have been put there by someone else, and he couldn't help but feel a little bit angry. He could leave her. She would eventually find it. But today he didn't. He walked over and grabbed it before turning and placing it in her hand.

The girl's hand wrapped around it tightly as she took a step back away from him.

"I won't take it." Sherlock answered her question quickly.

He watched as she located the sound of his voice. She tilted her head a moment before she spoke.

"You're the boy they tease." She said "I've heard them."

Sherlock's gaze hardened ever so slightly. Perhaps this had been a bad idea.

"They're quite dull themselves." The girl continued "They're jealous of you, I think."

Sherlock was shocked by that. Of course he knew that, but he assumed that everyone else agreed. Most people seemed to think normal was better. Their way of life. The way things 'should' be and how children 'should' act. It was obnoxious.

"As they should be." He stated finally, taking a stance of confidence.

The girl chuckled lightly and Sherlock's expression took on one of slight confusion.

"I'm glad you do not let them bother you." She continued with a smile. "I'm Alita." She offered a hand.

Sherlock looked her over again slowly before deciding to shake her hand "Sherlock."

"That's a very unique name." Alita commented, her tone was that of observance and intrigue. "Strong. And not a name that is easily forgotten."

"Thank you." Sherlock nodded

"No. Thank you." Alita smiled "The boys thought it would be funny to hide this in a new spot this week. Usually I can find it quite quickly because they are so obvious in their work however the alley was new."

There was silence a moment before Alita spoke up again.

"Do you happen to know what time it is?"

Sherlock glanced at his watch and internally cursed himself for not paying closer attention. He would be late.

"It's half two." He said quickly, stepping back.

"Ah." she nodded "Goodbye, Sherlock" She could tell he was leaving.

He had reached the end of the alley and yet when she spoke, he stopped and looked her over. "Goodbye, Alita."

And with that he ran home.


	2. We're in the Club Now

**This story is set up in little snippets. Sort of like looking at short clips of a longer story. :) hope that makes sense.**

"Now come on Sherlock it can't be _that_ bad." Alita chuckled at her friend

"Alita. You could not possibly understand. It's hideous." Sherlock scratched at the Christmas jumper. "I refuse to step outside in it. Besides, I have homework to do."

"It won't take you long, and you know it." She reached for his hand and found it. "Just a few minutes in the snow couldn't possibly hurt you." The young brunette tugged him in the direction of his door.

Sherlock took a deep breath and closed his eyes momentarily before taking the lead and opening the door. The snow on the Holmes' front lawn was marred only by a single path taken to the door. The path he knew belonged to Alita. No other child would approach and neither of the Holmes boys would find themselves outside. Mycroft was 'too old' and Sherlock had his reasons.

Sherlock helped his friend down the steps while also giving her a short lecture over why it was dangerous and probably bad for them to be out in the snow.

"But it's fun!" She smiled in his general direction and Sherlock made a face

"And don't you make a face. I know the dangers of snow but what is life if you never face any dangers, Sherlock?" She asked him as they made their way into the yard.

Sherlock's shoes sunk into the snow and he looked at Alita again.

They both stood there in silence a moment before Alita spoke up yet again.

"Well… is there anything you want to do?"

"My-"

"Aside from school work. Honestly, Sherlock. I know you are brilliant and it won't take you long." she found his other hand "It's Christmas."

The thirteen-year-old sighed and then flopped down into the snow, tugging her with him.

Alita yelped and then sighed. Sherlock knew she could not see the snow but had been interested to see how she FELT things. He knew it was natural for her other senses to compensate. It was interesting to him.

"What?" Alita asked softly, feeling his gaze.

Sherlock looked up at the sky and took a breath of the cool winter air before asking "What does snow feel like?"

He knew she would frown. He knew she would question it at first. But eventually she started with.

"It's soft and it's cool, like a sheet. It's also light and fluffy. It feels… happy." She decided.

Sherlock sat in silence for a moment before saying "Well it looks a lot more blank than it feels."

Alita chuckled "I can imagine."

Of course, she could only ever imagine.


	3. Married Life

Sherlock and Alita sat side by side on a park bench, the sixteen-year-olds not speaking a word, simply enjoying the company and the breeze of the summer day. They had been like this for about ten minutes now, just sitting. Sherlock was observing the people who walked by and Alita was listening to the sounds of the world.

"This should be interesting." Sherlock finally spoke.

"Mmmm?" Alita looked in his general direction

"Ms. Darling's been sleeping with the neighbor again."

"Lovely." Alita's voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"She's also worried that she's pregnant. Wouldn't want anyone to find out."

"Well then, let's hope she's not."

"And Dr. Trout lost his job."

"Poor family."

"The man was stealing."

"Fair enough."

And they fell into silence again. Thirty minutes passed before Alita spoke up.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes?"

A brief pause.

"Tell me about the bird in the tree to your left." She requested "What's it look like?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow but glanced up to the animal. "The animal is small I suppose, just recently groomed itself. You can tell by the patterns in the feathers. All dark in color, two shades lighter than the complete darkness you see. There really isn't much to it."

Another pause

"How does it feel?"

"Alita I'm not-"

"To look at it." she added

Silence from the young genius for quite a while.

"Nice." He answered, a tiny hint of emotion in his voice "I suppose. If you consider birds nice. They're just animals, a necessary part of the world."

"hmmm."

More silence

"It's getting dark." Alita said, "I can feel the air cooling around us. I should head home."

Sherlock nodded once, "Have a good evening, Alita."

The girl stood, readied her walking stick and started off down the familiar path towards home.


	4. The Ellie Badge

"And therefore-"

"And therefore it's very likely that Mrs. Jenkins will soon be moving away." Alita finished with a smile. "Am I correct?"

"Yes." Sherlock replied "However, Mr. Jenkins-"

"Will be staying out the next six months because he doesn't have the money for the move and is going to try and figure out a way to make it work and cover it up with his wife about the lost job and low funds."

"Right. Fine. You're getting the hang of this, but only because I told you the information."

"Well, Sherlock, I couldn't very well see them on my own, now could I?"

"No, but-"

"No 'but's, Sherlock."

"However, there are other ways you could pick up on their life."

"Clever." She commented. "And true, I suppose." Alita leaned her head against his shoulder. The brisk autumn air moved around the seventeen-year-old friends.

Sherlock didn't protest the movement, she was one of his best friends after all. They sat there in silence for a while before Alita cleared her throat

"Thank you."

He glanced at her "For?"

"Helping me find my walking stick in the alley when we were younger."

Sherlock shifted a little at her words but eventually said "Of course."

Another moment of silence, the breeze moving by them swiftly this time.

Sherlock shivered at the cold and scooted half an inch closer to his friend.

Not a moment later he felt something gentle and warm gently guiding his head to turn towards her, he didn't protest.

She ran her hand gently over his cheek, tracing her fingers up to his forehead and then down the other side. That hand slipped under his chin and it stayed there. Sherlock knew she sometimes felt things to map them out and it truly didn't bother him at all.

Alita's hand moved back up to his cheek and the other hand mirrored the same position.

Sherlock watched her curiously now, this was new. He tilted his head ever so slightly as he watched her begin to lean closer to him. To his own disbelief, he met her halfway. Their lips brushed gently as the air rushed by again. Sherlock's heart jumped ever so slightly in his chest and he reached up to hold her cheek as he pressed his lips fully to hers now, his eyes completely shut.

For one short moment, the two met as equals.


	5. Stuff We Did

Alita's funeral was small. Her parents had insisted only those closest to their daughter attend the ceremony and William Sherlock Scott Holmes was not among them. He was invited of course, but he didn't attend. He didn't leave his house that day at all. The details of her death were soon deleted. The only important detail was the simple fact that she wasn't there. A simple fact. He just did his work and continued on as if nothing happened.

Funerals were pointless. The people were dead, they didn't care anymore how you felt or what happened. Funerals were for the living. And most of those living were too closed minded and ignorant to understand that. So why go?

Sherlock never visited her grave, and he never spoke with their family again. She was gone. There was no point in pretending any differently.

* * *

" _Sherlock_. Hello?"

"Hmm? Yes John. The case." Sherlock looked up at his flatmate.

"We need to go."

"Yes of course." He stood and went to grab his coat. "Shall we?"

"Sherlock-"

"I was thinking John, sometimes I have to think about things. I know that is hard for you to grasp, but thinking is important."

The war doctor rolled his eyes and headed off down the stairs.

Sherlock was about to follow, however he took a brief moment to glance at the walking stick he kept in the corner. He scanned it slowly and blinked once before he popped his collar and stepped out of the room.


End file.
